Harper's Chain
by 4n71m0nyl4yn3
Summary: - "She cries her life is like some movie black and white -- dead actors faking lines, over and over and over again she cries."
1. Part I, chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harper's Island. Neither do you. I also don't own any songs used within the series.  
I do, however, own these OCs: Étoile Devereaux and her sister Soire, Andrée Devereaux, Alison Wakefield, and Robert Wakefield.  
**A/N:** Please forgive this story in all its horribility. And it will be long as fuck. Forgive the OOCness. Forgive the overused JD-OC pairing and the JD best friend thing.

Without further ado...

_**Harper's Chain, a Harper's Island fanfiction**_

_Part I - [ . you . found . me . ]_

_"Where were you  
When everything was falling apart?  
When all my days  
Were spent by a telephone  
That never rang?  
When all I needed was a call  
That never came?"  
-The Fray_

_chapter one_

Étoile Devereaux stood in front of her full-length mirror against the tan wall of her rented room in the Candlewick, an inn on an island 37 miles off the coast of Seattle, Washington. This island was known as Harper's Island, and Étoile had lived here pretty much her whole life. She was scrutinising every detail of her appearance. The glossy stream of silky black hair up in a high ponytail flowed to halfway down her back; she loved her hair since it contrasted with her ghostly-pale skin. Behind small rectangular glasses, her deep-blue eyes shined for the first time in four years. Her angular face was well-constructed, and upon it sat a solemn yet hopeful expression as she looked over herself. She was short, she hated that, only five-foot-two at age twenty. Covering her thin torso was a tight (but not whore-tight) long-sleeved black shirt, over her lean legs were a pair of dark-bl ue skinny jeans, leading down to her small feet which were inside high-top black Converses with black laces lined with pink stars (L and R, standing for left and right, was outlined in black Sharpie ink on the white toe sections of the shoes, respectively; she had always been a dork). Normally she didn't pay much attention to her clothing, just threw on whatever looked clean, but today was special. Today she'd see someone more important to her than anything after seven years of his absence.

At least she had had something to live for. Her older twin sister, Soire, had been killed around the time that he had left for goo. Right in front of Étoile, too. But that's another story, for another time.

Étoile glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand behind her. "Shit!" Her eyes widened before she snatched up her keys off her bed and ran out of her room, not bothering to lock the door she was in such a hurry, and all the way through the winding paths in the woods scattered around the island. Mentally, this was effortless for her. She had lived on Harper's Island for fifteen years, ever since she was five (before that, she had lived in Lille, France), and every one of those years had been quite literally hell for her. Physically, however, was not so smooth. Étoile reached Shelton's Bay, the marina at the edge of the island, the surrounding water filled with docks and boats of all types and sizes. Slowing to a stop about halfway down a dock, she leaned a petite hand against a fishing boat, the other pressed to her chest.

"Dammit, Étoile, did you run here again?" asked the owner of this boat, a hint of annoyance in his slightly-deep voice.

Étoile nodded, bent over and breathless. "Yeah."

"You'll kill yourself doing shit like that."

That earned the young man a glare out of the corner of Étoile's eye. "You think I care, Jimmy?"

"You should," sighed James "Jimmy" Mance, a local fisherman who was awaiting the arriving boat as eagerly as Étoile. Usually his friend, Shane Pierce, was on the boat with him, but Étoile (and Jimmy, to an extent) was gland Shane wasn't there now. He wasn't exactly the...nicest of people.

Speaking of Shane.... "Where's our good buddy Shane?" inquired Étoile sarcastically, straightening up.

"Gone."

"Good." Étoile looked out at the water and noticed the outline of a large boat approaching in the mist. Her heart skipped a beat before pounding rapidly. "Is that them?"

"Can't be. The wedding was canceled."

"What?" Her eyes widened and glanced at a grinning Jimmy. "You bastard!" she exclaimed, playfully hitting him in the stomach.

He laughed, "You're too gullible sometimes."

"Oh, boo."

The boat crept closer, slowly, too slow for Étoile's liking. "It needs to hurry up!" she whined.

"I don't see why it matters," replied Jimmy, running a hand through his light-brown hair. "If it's coming, it shouldn't matter how fast."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that." Étoile smirked. "You know you can hardly wait to see Abby."

"Shut up," he muttered, a light bush crossing his cheeks.

The pair stood in silence after that, both their eyes glued to the boat as it slowed then stopped at the edge of the dock. People started filing off, talking, joking, laughing, and Étoile scanned every face for the one she was hoping to see. She was snapped out of concentration by a familiar voice calling out to her.

"Hey, Étoile, you're still around?"

Her eyes immediately found the couple approaching, one boy, one girl. The voice had been that of Henry Dunn, one of her childhood friends and the reason the boat and everyone on it had come. Beside him was the beautiful Patricia Wellington, the woman he was marrying in a week. Étoile had known her for a long time as well, but let's just say the two had a certain dislike for one another.

She immediately looked past them, back at the crowd, and passively said, "You won't get rid of me that easy." Her eyes snapped back to Henry's brown ones. "JD here?"

"Should be," Henry sighed. "He's been hiding from everyone though, you know how he gets."

"Figures."

"Well, see you around then." The couple and Étoile nodded their goodbyes before the former continued strolling down the dock together.

Étoile tiredly rubbed her eyes as Jimmy's face brightened. "Hey, look, it's Abby! Abby!" He waved to the young woman he had spotted; she looked a little distracted before she noticed him and tentatively walked towards Jimmy and Étoile.

"Hey," Abigail "Abby" Mills said with a smile. She was another of Étoile's childhood friends, so Abby greeted her with a hug (though Étoile's not exactly a hug-type person). "How've you been?"

"Okay," Étoile sighed.

"Oh, so you ignore me?" Jimmy put in. He was grinning again.

Abby flashed him a sly smile. "It's so easy to."

"Very funny."

It was suffocating to Étoile, reunions always were. They always had such strong emotions, and Étoile...usually had nothing. She shivered as they continued conversing.

"Hey, Étoile." Abby's voice interrupted her searching. There were only a few people left now, eight to ten at the most.

"Hm?"

"You looking for JD?"

Étoile's voice came out in a bored monotone, though she didn't mean it that way. "Yep. How'd you guess?" It actually came out kind of bitchy too.

"Well..."--she sounded kind of uninterested as well, but there was a smirk upon her face--"...I heard he's staying in room 204 at the Candlewick."

Étoile's eyes widened and shot straight to Abby's light-browns. "How d'you know?" Now there was a little emotion to her voice again.

The smirk deepened, the left corner of her mouth twisted up. "I have my ways." And with that, she turned to walk away, the multi-coloured scarf around her neck trailing behind her in the wind.

Suddenly everyone's attention turned to the thrashing water one boat over from Jimmy's. Nearby people screamed and gathered to one spot. Someone who couldn't swim had fallen in.

Immediately Jimmy sprang into action, leaping off his boat and damn near sprinting the short distance. To most people, Jimmy seemed like nothing more than a joker who only had the brains to fish, but Étoile knew better. His solemn intelligence kicked in when someone was in need. She watched as he pulled out a woman with long dirty-blonde hair in preppy, girly clothes. Her sleek body was limp was unconsciousness. Jimmy began chest compressions and breathing into the girl's mouth in an attempt to revive "Beth" (as someone screamed), but it was too late. Bethany Barrington, though Étoile would never know her full name, became the victim of a mere accident.

...Or was it an accident? Étoile noticed someone step out of the group around Jimmy and Beth, a woman in a black suit. The woman was quite small, but Étoile knew that she herself would lose if the two were to compare heights. A black hat with an unnecessarily large brim covered the woman's face. The only possible identifying featured were the blonde hair curled to midway down her back and even the mysterious smirk that Étoile cou ld see as she passed, but Étoile did not recognise her.

Pity, too. Maybe this story wouldn't have to be written if the blonde suited woman had been identified then.

-x-x-

Étoile found it mildly insensitive, just emotionlessly running off after the incident at the marina. But she hadn't known "Beth", she never would. She had better things to do with her time then to get to know the dead girl. Like finding JD. Remembering what Abby told her, Étoile sprinted back down to the Candlewick and hopped up one flight of stairs inside. People glanced at her as she raced down the hallway to room 204, but she didn't care. At the door, she stopped (after nearly running smack into it) and took a deep breath. She smoothed her hands down her clothes, wiping off even the most minute speck of crap. she checked to make sure her hair was as perfect as she could get it without a mirror. She took off her glasses and cleaned them off on her shirt. She fidgeted with random things on her person for a few more moments.

Nervous? Étoile? Naw.

She cleaned her glasses again. Okay, maybe she was a little nervous.

Étoile looked down and saw that her shoe was untied. She cursed herself mentally, and, instead of kneeling down, she simply bent over out of habit.

_BANG_.

...And her head smashed against the door. "Shit!" she exclaimed between clenched teeth, rubbing her aching forehead. She shot up straight when the door opened. Knowing her luck, it'd be the wrong room. Or, just as bad at the moment, it'd be the right one.

It was the right one. Étoile found herself staring up into the puzzled ice-blue eyes peeking out from under the longish black hair of JD Dunn, her best friend growing up. He'd changed a lot, Étoile noticed right away. He'd grown a little taller, about five-foot-seven or -eight, and from what Étoile could see in the crack of the doorway his overall style had changed. "...Étoile?" he said. His voice had deepened just a little more as well.

It all made sense, she hadn't seen him since he was 16.

"Um...y-yeah," she stuttered, brushing some hair out of her face.

"Was it you who, um, did that just now?"

"Did what?"

"Banged on my door."

"Oh...someone banged on your door?" She let out a laugh, hiding the nervousness she couldn't deny any longer. "Pfft. you must be hallucinating or some shit." She slipped inside, between him and the wall. Being small has its ninja advantages.

"Hey, you can't just -- !" JD protested, turning but not closing the door. It was only open a crack anyways.

"Well, it's not like you really have anything to hide from me," Étoile nonchalantly responded, sitting down on his bed. "Hm," she added, slightly bouncing on it, "so it is true."

JD sighed and closed the door, realising that there was no way that he could get her out now. "What's true?"

"Guests have better beds than the residents." After no response, she continued with, "I live on the third floor, where they keep the residents."

"That's creepy."

"I know."

They had that awkward silent moment that usually ensued with two people who hadn't seen each other in a long time or just weren't that close; JD leaned against the wall facing her, and Étoile absentmindedly twirled her ponytail as she looked around.

JD took a good look at his...his -- well, he didn't know what to call her. Best friend? They hadn't seen each other in seven years. Friend didn't feel like it gave the eight summers they had had together justice. Acquaintance, colleague, and comrade all seemed too distant. Whatever. He took a good look at Étoile. Couldn't go wrong with using her name. "Damn. You've changed." Her hair was the same as always, but her face had turned from the cuteness of a child to the beauty of a young adult. Her height, he assumed from what he had seen of her standing, hadn't changed from all those years ago, but her body had transitioned from the awkward proportions of a teenager to the mature curves of a woman. He wasn't attracted to her or anything, he never had been, but she looked good. Beautiful, even.

"So've you." She smirked, leaning back on her hands she placed behind her. "I remember when you were blond."

He laughed and looked down, his dark hair covering his eyes for an instant as he flipped her off.

"Oh, get over it." Étoile watched JD cross over to the bed and start digging through clothes in his bags next to her. She stared wordlessly for a moment before a knock on the door sounded.

"JD, you in there?" It was Henry.

JD ignored him, keeping on rifling through his stuff.

"Well, um," Henry proceeded, "I just wanted to say thanks for coming. With Mom and Dad gone -- "

Étoile noticed JD freeze at this; her eyes narrowed in confusion.

" -- You and Uncle Marty are pretty much the only family I've got left. So, uh, if you need anything, just ask."

All sound ceased as JD found the shirt he was looking for, a black-and-red long-sleeved one. He slipped off the black one he was wearing, causing Étoile to look away with a light-pink blush forming across her face. So she didn't see the miscellaneous dark, gothic tattoos placed randomly around his body.

She glanced up at him. "Um...what did Henry mean about your parents -- ?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Étoile noticed his face was blank, devoid of all emotion.

"Oh..." She stood up, smoothing her hair gawkily. "I should go, um...I'll see you later?" It could have been her slight French accent, but her voice lifted at the end of that last statement, making it seem like a question.

"Yeah," he replied, not bothering to look at her, leaning down on his hands on the bed.

Étoile walked of the room, fleetingly looking over her shoulder at him once. As she closed the door, she noticed a short, sharp pain in her chest. _Guess I shouldn't have run so much today._

-x-x-x-x-

**A/N:** Goddamn, that's horrible.  
And long.  
I'm so sorry! -bows-


	2. Author's Note: My Life with Computers

My life with computers is horrible.

My computers keep crashing, and it takes forever to either replace them or get them fixed.

So, for the time being, I am unable to update this story.  
...Right after I started this shit too.

I deeply apologise and hope you stick with me.

Or else my minions will find you in your sleep.... :D

But! There is hope yet! A word from Étoile!

**Étoile:** Ask me anything about the story and I'll answer it in the next chapter's author's note (or just an entirely new chapter titled "Answers" or something if the update is slow)! Complete with the cold witticisms like the ones I'll have later on! I won't give away spoilers though. So if you ask who the killer is, I won't say. D=


End file.
